The Scientist
by Stella Marshal
Summary: My name is Basira Allen. When I was a child, I saw my father was murder by something impossible. My mother went to prison for its crime. No one believes in the impossible. But in Starling City, an impossible theft at Queens Co. could be the proof I need to prove that the impossible is possible. "Fem!Barry Genderswap"
1. Applied Sciences

**Hey Guys. Sorry about the code mis-function. This story and the next are only from Berry's POV because there isn't a lot I have to add to Oliver and Team Arrow's story arcs. I hope you like the story and don't forget to Read and Review. BTW _Italicized_ means POV Character thoughts.**

* * *

Starling City Police Headquarters was a wreck. Even through the pouring rain, Berry Allen could see the graffiti scarred walls. Her taxi stopped in front of the station house. She gathered her kit and ran into the building. The rain too heavy to take a closer look. Inside the Station house was almost worse than the outside. The cracked linoleum squeaked under her soaking shoes and the lights flickered. Up the weathered stairs and down two more chipped puke green halls to the Starling Police Crime Scene Unit.

There was almost no one in the lab expect for Sally Newman. Berry could see her bright orange hair and lanky frame from the door. Her blue CSU jacket hung over her chair back, clashing with her hair. The other woman sat at her minuscule corner desk. Berry ran up to the other woman and hugged her.

Sally stood up, straightening her clothes. "You sure you want to do this, Raspberry?"

Berry glared playfully at the older woman. Sally had been the one to call her with the details, "How long did we date?"

Sally held up her hands in surrender. "Fine, I always wondered what it was like to go home at five anyway."

Berry rolled her eyes at her ex. Starling CSUs were some of the most under-utilized in the country. They were there for the cameras, not the victims. Not that Sally cared. Passions came and went like the tides for her.

Berry grinned and threw on her own CSU jacket, "So where's the scene?"

* * *

Queens Co's Applied Sciences was a wreck. It was also the coolest crime scene she had ever worked. The doors were heavy honeycomb titanium that could withstand a tank. They were laying half-way into the warehouse bent like bad origami. Inside were things that she didn't think would exist for five or ten years. She googled a little, eyes wide.

"The other guys must've come in after that." The voice was professional baritone, probably a cop.

 _You think people who live in a city with their own freaking superhero would be more informed._

She piped up then, not wanting them to get too cemented in the idea that this was a crew job.

"Actually it was one guy."

She rounded the corner and saw an unlikely collection of people. Oliver Queen and a black man in a suit, a woman in a pretty purple dress, and cops. Lots of cops. A lanky figure stepped forward/ He was most likely the speaker. Big enough to produce that deep rumble with the stance and age lines of a veteran cop. This was someone who was used to people obeying him. But he was only a patrol officer. Odd. The cop stared at her. She extended her hand to him.

"Ah, sorry I'm late." She cleared her throat with a nervous laugh, "Well, actually my train was late."

The cop was glaring at her, nostrils flaring. It was such a look of paternal disappointment. She knew how she must look: A little girl with short flyaway hair and freckles, her gangly limbs sticking out of an oversized sweater. More than once cops had tried to arrest her for trespassing on a crime scene. Anxiety started roiling in her stomach. And with the anxiety comes the word vomit.

"The second one," She automatically corrected, "the first I missed. I've got this great traffic app, and" She bounced a little to stop babbling. "I'm here now, though."

"So. Great." The patrol officer asked, tone bored and eyes sharp and suspicious. "Who the Hell are you?"

"And do your parents know you're here?" Oliver Queen was not quite as impressive as she though he'd be. Maybe it was different when he was prowling in a club or something but he just looked kind of awkward and completely uncomfortable in a business suit and patient leather shoes.

She held up her little ID from CCPD. "I'm Berry Allen. I work with the Central City Crime Scene Unit."

The cop took it. "Basira?" he chocked a little on it, "That's not a real name."

Berry felt her mouth twitch but ignored him. She turned to the CEO and put on her biggest Nice-to-Meet-You-I'm-a-Professional smile. Joe always said that was enough to blind a person. She hoped it was enough to blind them to her lies.

"We're working on a case with some similar unexplained elements in Central City, so when the report of your robbery came over the wire, my captain sent me up here."

"And you think one guy, ripped through this door," Officer, Lance, jabbed a thumb at the titanium doors "Like it was tinfoil?"

She nodded vigorously. "One very strong guy, yeah."

They were giving her that look again: the mix of disbelief and laughter that everyone who never experienced the impossible gave her. When doubted, just bowl them over with facts. She held up her tablet for Mr. Queen.

"Uh, it takes about 1,250 foot pounds of torque to break someone's neck." She brought up the file she had gotten from Sally and held it out for the others to see. Mr. Queen peered at it. The guard's neck was a mass of barely recognizable bruises. "You see the marks on the guard's neck?"

She flicked a finger at the purple marks.

"The bruising pattern suggests the killer used only one hand." She motioned with her hand, coming at Mr. Queen's neck. He flinched back from her. Like he expected her to really try to strangle him "I'm guessing you don't know how hard it is to break someone's neck."

"Hmm?" his tone did not match his face, "No. No Idea."

For a social chameleon, Mr. Queen was a really bad liar. Heck he was almost as bad as she was. She studied him. There had been stories, tattoos, scars that could only come from another person. Mr. Queen stared back at her. His gaze was flat and just as assessing.

Officer Lance broke the silence, "Uh, we're going to need a list of the entire inventory here to figure out exactly what was stolen.

Berry latched onto the question. This was getting weird. "Actually, I think I know what was stolen." She had noticed an open space on her way in. It was two small backwards hops away. "A centrifuge. An industrial centrifuge. Probably the Cord Enterprises 2BX 900. Maybe the six series."

"Both have a three column base." She pointed to the floor where three twisted blobs of metal stuck up, "Here, you can see the three sets of broken bolts where the thief just ripped it out of the ground."

She motioned like she was ripping the machine from the ground.

Lance scratched at his neck, "And what exactly is a centrifuge?"

 _Who doesn't know what a centrifuge was?_

A blonde woman spoke up. She was dressed smartly with a pretty pink dress with a purple overcoat and bright black glasses. "It separates liquids. The centripetal acceleration causes denser substances to separate out along the radial direction. And lighter objects move to the top."

The officer didn't look like he actually understood what she had said. He drew her aside and spoke more quietly to her. Berry started mentally cataloging what she needed to do. There were footprints pressed into the cement floor. She'd collect the samples from them. The footprints themselves were pretty much useless unless they were unusual. These were size 10 work boots. Dust the doors for prints. Even if the killer wore gloves, the sharp edges on the door could have torn them. Something moved in the corner of her eye. The blonde was motioning for her. Berry turned to her.

"What did you say your name was again?"

"Berry. Allen." She was stuttered out.

"Felicity. Smoak." Her smile was magic, bright and warm as the sun.

They held the gaze until Oliver cleared his throat. Felicity went over to him. Berry turned her attention back to the scene. Lance was standing over her shoulder and staring at her tablet. She held in protectively. It had taken her months to get Singh to let her buy it. Out of her own pocket.

"Um, you can see the cracks heading towards the door." She pointed at the cracks, each one shaped perfectly like a size ten shoe.

"Footsteps. One guy." She stood proudly by the evidence.

Lance ignored her. "Anyway, it's just a theory."

"One backed by a lot of evidence." Berry pressed

"There has to be another explanation." The cop was talking more to himself than to her.

Berry ignored him. Lance and the other cops were determined to make this ordinary and she knew better than to press the issue. There was always another explanation, not the right one or even a logical one but they would use it anyway. She turned her back on them. Other techs were coming; she slid into their numbers without a word from them or her. There was an unspoken comradely among the CSU. It didn't matter if you were from Central City or Cape Town. Science was a universal language.


	2. Queen's Con

Queens, co. was a po-mo wet dream. The atrium, not a lobby, was wide sweeping marble. The elevators were glass-sided and moved with a liquid grace. On the top floor, everything was glass, black leather, or stainless steel. Everything was designed to be sterile and intimidating.

They couldn't at least get a plant.

Felicity was in her office with Mr. Queen and the other man. She hadn't gotten his name. She hadn't actually noticed him before. Captain Smooth immediately attached itself to his face. He fulfilled the stereotype of the scary black man so he was probably private security and probably an ex something. Not a cop, there was none of that loose flutter tension that came with being in a city or without back up. Not infantry or even marine either. He was disciplined and used to working alone, a field agent or a scout or something.

"Can we help you with something, Detective?" Mr. Queen broke her train of thought.

Those shows were going to haunt her and everyone she knew until the day she died. She sighed and smiled at Felicity.

"Oh, CSIs aren't actually detectives. We don't even carry guns." She tried to laugh a little, "Just some plastic baggies."

Oliver was staring at her. His gaze was screaming, go away, go away. She coughed at little.

"Uh, where should I set up my equipment?"

"I'll show you." Felicity separated herself from the two men.

Mr. Queen looked back and forth between them, a scowl deepening, "What's going on?"

Being on the receiving end of that glare reminded her of Captain Singh who was not aware of what she was doing with her off-day. Her heart started pounding in her chest and not in a nice way.

"Your assistant said that you preferred to keep the investigation in house," she gritted her teeth and keep her voice as even as possible, "so I cleared it with my captain to give you a hand. "

Mr. Queen didn't say a word, just pulled Felicity through the office door. How rude. As she set her supplies on the floor, she could hear him hissing at his assistant.

"What are you doing?" his voice was low and gravelly. It was the kind of voice that most people with start shaking at.

Felicity wasn't intimidated. Go her. "We need to find this intruder. And she seems to know more about it than any of us."

The rest of the conversation was too low for her to hear. The private security guy was giving her a look, so she focused on the office. It was rather large but she was going off the secretary's office at the court house. Maybe this was small. Maybe this was a matchbox compared to Wayne Enterprise or Lex, corp. or one of the other ridiculously wealthy super-corporations.

"I'll show you around,"

The other woman was smug, walking with an ease confidence Berry envied. Oliver had this weird little smile on his face, like he only barely remembered how to do it. Something in the Captain Smooth's knowing look told her this happened all the time. Maybe that was why Felicity was a personal assistant instead of president of computers or whatever the term was. She was the only could manipulate the boss out of his bad decisions.

"Is he always like that?" She jerked her chin towards the two men. They were speaking in low tones on the other side of the glass. Oliver looked like he had swallowed a lemon. Blank and glaring seemed to be his two big expressions. Felicity's mouth pressed into a thin pink line and she didn't answer. The two women started sorting the evidence.

The general rule of forensics was collect everything first and figure out what was important later. There were samples from the door, floor, and walls. There were hand and shoeprints. There were enough photos to fill a teenage girl's Instagram. Most of those had gone to SCPD but she had some of her own. She clicked her tongue and glance around for the equipment. Oliver was talking to that man again. She raised her hand a little.

"Ah, question?"

"I never slept with Oliver." The answer was quick and concise. Something Felicity had been asked so many times she was no longer embarrassed by it.

"What?! No," Berry felt more than embarrassed for both women, "I wanted to know what the other guy's name is." She huffed out a breath. "I can't keep calling him Captain Smooth."

Felicity stared at her. Berry focused on her reflection on the glass; The blush started creeping back. Her face did not look good when she blushed. Felicity was going to call her a nerd or look at her like she was crazy or grin like a manic. Berry turned to make sure she was actually seeing it. Felicity Smoak, hot confident, was grinning at her. It made her heart start pounding in her chest in a definitely pleasant way.

"With Sgt. Rough." She teased, gesturing at Oliver. Berry was grinning too now. "It's John. John Diggle."

"Diggle," Berry rolled the name around her mouth than sang "Diggle, Wiggle, Jiggle."

Felicity tried to smother a laugh and her smile grew. You could light a stadium with it. And her eyes were beautiful, citrine and amber. Berry had the sudden crazy desire to kiss her, full on the mouth. A knock came on the glass partition. Both women jumped and looked at the noise. Oliver was glaring at them again.

Felicity pressed her hands down and bowed her head like she was praying.

"What exactly are you looking for?" she asked.

Berry sighed. "We need some equipment."


	3. Applied Sciences II

The best place to do the analysis, according to Felicity, was the scene of the crime. That at least made sense. There was top of the line equipment there and all the evidence she would need. That was practical. Unlike everything else in this freaking city. The more she thought about things here the less anything made sense. Sure there was the mysterious super-strong guy.

She had at least expected that.

What she hadn't expected were the people working the case. Quinten Lance was a fifty year old beat cop who was yet was competent enough that Mr. Queen had all but ordered him to run the investigation on his own and had no trouble taking orders from a civilian computer tech. Said Tech did not require a password for SCPD files because getting around their freaking NSA level security was easier. And who apparently worked with an ex-Delta Force Officer whose file consisted of enough awards to set off a metal detector and ten pages of black lines.

Was that the reason Count Vertigo had kidnapped her? Maybe her position was a ploy to stop people targeting. She sits at a secretary's desk and people just write her off as another dumb blonde while she codes smart rocket and submarines.

"What are you doing?" Berry flinched. Mom had always said that she was in more danger of getting lost in her head than in the street. Felicity was peering at her work, face open and curious.

She stammered a bit, blush returning. It had been a long time since she was this close to such a pretty person. "Your thief's shoes touched the ground, which means he tracked in dozens of clues as to where he's been the past few days."

"Got ya" Felicity returned to her seat and started to tap at her desktop. Berry carefully loaded her sample into the mass spectrometer, "Shouldn't take long."

There was no answer. Code flashed across the computer screen as Felicity squinted at it. The other woman was completely lost in her own world. Berry could respect that. She could also scream at the lost opportunity. She spilt the difference and started kicking her foot against the desk. Now that she was done with the collecting and waiting to analyze, questions were roiling inside her head. She was itching to pepper Felicity with them. Then again she didn't want to bring up some foul memories for her either. Not for the first time, she wished for Ian's perfect social skills. Felicity leaned back in her chair. It was now or never.

"So you've seen him, right?" The Hacker spun to face her. Her expression was puzzled "The Vigilante." She clarified, "I read that he saved you."

On the top floor of Queens, co, while she had been held hostage by the psychotic Count Vertigo during a city wide Vertigo epidemic. That was so cool. Berry could barely breathe when she thought about it. She could just imagine Felicity glaring down the psychotic drug dealer as he made his terrifying demands. Then crash! He appears in six feet three inches of righteous fury. Her voice was dropped to a hushed whisper, "What was he like?"

The other woman stared at her until it was all she could do not to bounce in place.

"Green." She finally answered.

"Green." Berry breathed in the tone she reserved for prayers and chemical formulas. "That's interesting, right?"

The Blonde shot her a confused look.

"I mean, why green?" She had repeated the question to Ian until he had thrown one of his college newspapers at her. "Black is so much better for urban stealth."

She paused to consider the Idea of a Black Hood, "not to mention it looks so much cooler."

Felicity made a choking noise. Berry ignored that. So she fangirled a little. It was an actual superhero they we're talking about. "Want to know what I think?"

The other woman cleared her throat, "I have a feeling you'll tell me anyway."

Berry felt her eyebrows draw up in a confused expression she hated, "I wouldn't do that."

Felicity sighed and rubbed her temples, "But you would pout for the rest of the day so tell me anyway."

Part of Berry wanted to shut up just to prove her wrong. Even though the other woman was not in fact wrong, "I think that he trained in some sort of like forest or jungle environment, and the green is a nod to that."

None of which made impression on Felicity. Her expression was bored. You'd think she'd slightly interested, "I don't give the vigilante much thought."

How could she not?

The Hood was in the paper at least once a week. And he was supposed to be smoking hot. From everything she'd read, the Hood was ripped like Thor and fought crime in leather hot pants. And Felicity clearly enjoyed male company if the looks she was throwing Mr. Queen were any indications.

Maybe it's because she was held hostage by a psychotic drug dealer, idiot.

Right. Berry's main experience with tragedy happened at a really young age. By the time people started directing their questions at her, the raw agony had settled into a dull ache. But Felicity had been kidnapped less than two weeks ago. There had to be a way to get information without traumatizing her. The scientist took a more general tactic.

"Police reports show that his early crimes were evenly spaced. One a week. I think he started working off some kind of list."

The other woman did her best to look skeptical and failed, "And where would find this list of evil?"

Was this some kind of plausible deniability thing?

"I once worked a case were the key piece of evidence was a website filled with photos featuring Vladimir Putin in a sexy bear costume."

Felicity snorted something that was either you're kidding me or some kind of Albanian surname. It was a tossup. She continued when Felicity was no longer in danger of choking.

"If I can find that, his partners could find out who's been skimming the pension plans."

"Partners?" Felicity was panicked. Maybe they were stepping on the Hacker code of silence. It wasn't just possible but likely that she knew who was helping the Hood and didn't want to get them in trouble. It wasn't like Berry was going to tell anyone but Felicity didn't know that.

"Partners." she was determined to finish her theory. "At least three of the crimes needed insider information kept in highly secure databases. He needed someone with an advanced knowledge of computers to do that and someone with military or law enforcement training to break into the storage site."

Her working theory was that a Hacktivst had collected a list of names of high powered buttholes and recruited a PTSD plagued archery champion/ex-cartel soldier from South America and a disillusioned ex-security contractor to be his/her/their feet on the street. She had not told anyone this because it sounded ridiculous.

"Yeah." Felicity was looking really nervous. Berry felt like a real jerk for bringing up so many uncomfortable things. "Why are you so interested in the Vigilante?"

Berry breathed, bracing herself for what came next. "When I was 11, my dad was murdered."

"I'm so sorry."

Berry shrugged. Why did everyone feel the need to personally apologize for something they didn't do? "CCPD never caught the guy. Maybe he would have."

She had had daydreams about it: a heroic figure bursting through her front door like a knight in shining armor. Whoever the Hood was, he must be the best man in the world, kind, honest, determined to get justice in a cruel and uncaring world. Spectrometer beeped. Perfect timing. She hated putting Felicity through the ringer like that, even if she could learn more about the Hood from her. There had to be someway to apologize to her. Maybe she could get the Geekette a novelty mouse.

Berry ignored her mental ramblings and pulled up the ratios: carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen with a little phosphorous. She mentally ran through the possible formulas. The ones she arrived at were weird to say the least.

"That's weird." Because it really was the least to say.

"What's weird?" Felicity looked just as relieved to get off their previous topic. She glanced at the other woman. The blonde's face was screwed up in bewilderment.

Berry pointed to the graph. "There's a large amount of processed sucrose crystals" She move to the carbon portion of the graph, "and bone char here."

"What?"

"Sugar." Berry clarified, "There's a ridiculous amount of white sugar in the soil."

"So he's hiding in a bakery, Chocolate factory?" She looked at the scientist expectantly.

Berry stared back, "Um, I'm not from around here."

"Right."There was no comprehension in her tone. It took five seconds for the hacker to get it, "Riiiight. I'll get on it."

"Some place with a lot of sugar runoff." Berry called over her shoulder.

There was a tap tap tap as Felicity worked. Berry had a better than average understanding of computers but Felicity's system looked completely alien. "There is a sugar refinery two miles from here."

"Can you access the police department from here?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. From what she could see, it won't surprise her if the other woman could get to the computers on the ISS.

Felicity's smug confidence returned, "Already done."

She pulled up a police report. "They had a delivery truck stolen a few days ago. Their truck matches the make and model of the truck the thief used to steal the centrifuge."

It looked like Felicity had a program that could search every report in the SCPD servers word by word. Maybe if she solved this case, Berry could ask her for a copy. Felicity was totally some kind of secret weapon at Queens, co.

"Can you track the vehicle?" She asked. Please let the answer be yes.

Felicity pushed her glasses back up her nose and grinned. There was a quiet glee in her voice.

"We can try."

Close enough.

* * *

It had taken Felicity less than two hour to pull together all the footage from the possible routes Berry had provided from the tire samples. From there it had taken her program less than one to scan them, pull out that specific truck, and track it through the city. The two women watched the mysterious vehicle while Felicity cross-checked for possible crimes along the route. That settled it. Ms. Smoak was actually Agent Smoak of the NSA on a deep cover assignment to… to…

At this point it was unclear, but there was no way Felicity wasn't some kind of technopath. Or robot. Or maybe an energy being comprised of pure computer code.

Berry stirred herself from her metal images of Aliens and the NSA when the typing stopped. "What you find?"

"You're not going to believe this." Felicity was mimicking the human expression of confused surprise. "The truck, it was just used to rob a blood bank."

Now that was weird. A centrifuge and blood. Not special blood but regular old blood. Did he need plasma or platelets? Why even have to steal it in the first place? Starling City Blood Banks made it a rule to sell to anyone. It cut down on the number of illegal-related fatalities. "Are you sure?"

Felicity nodded, "Yeah. Our guy just made off with 30,000 ccs of O-negative."

Berry did the math. That came out to a little less than 64 pints of premium blood. Which was why he had stolen it. Even Starling City had its limits. That much universal donor blood was reserved for hospitals and registered health centers only.

"What, he has super strength, likes blood?" Mr. Diggle was standing in the doorway, a little behind and to the left of his employer, "Please don't tell me we suddenly believe in vampires."

Vampires were theoretically possible but unlikely. From everything she had gathered, they were mutants that required large amounts of iron rich blood in which case it wouldn't matter which type he stole or they were magic which was silly and totally not real. Berry did not voice her opinion on vampires to the men.

Felicity spoke first, "We found the truck. It's still hiding at that old sugar refinery two miles from here."

Which Felicity had most likely found while simultaneously giving life to a true AI and writing a program to turn computer code in to food.

"The land out there is saturated in waste sugar which the man tracked in on his boot…," Mr. Queen raised a hand. He didn't say a word or even look at her but his stance made it clear that she was not welcome to continue. She glanced around and saw Diggle was staring at the air. Even Felicity was giving her looks. "We should give this information to the local police." She finished lamely.

"I'll take care of that." Mr. Queen cut in. He started to turn but stopped himself. His gaze returned to her, heavy with bad vibes. "Did you say that you were working a similar case in Central City?"

"Oh, yeah, um Yeah, you know, it's similar." Berry cringed inside, but at this point there was no stopping the word vomit, "Has similar elements. A lot of similarities. Right. Yeah."

Mr. Queen had finally started to look her in the eye. His glare now sang dulcet tones of You are a complete idiot. Please leave before you lower my IQ. Jerk. She shut her mouth, blushing furiously. Oliver collected the data and left without another word.

"Does he always do that?" She asked behind her hand. Felicity and Diggle shared a look. Not a good look. He totally did do that all the time.


	4. Queen's Con Lab

Sorry about not updating sooner. If I don't finish a story within a week I start suffering from intense bouts of "Want the Hell was I Thinking?" and I have to do a lot of rewriting and headbanging until things make sense.

Love and Kisses.

* * *

Felicity had left shortly after Mr. Queen and Mr. Diggle. And had returned just as suddenly an hour later with a sample of the thief's blood. Berry had the feeling less than legal means were used. If she had just called, they could have at least tried to talk it out Sally first. Felicity did not have to risk her record just because her boss was a jerk. Berry decided to take it out on the lab rather than Mr. Oliver. Rearranging the chemicals was a favorite prank to pull on her boss.

She picked up the first two bottles. "They have Nitric Acid next Hydrazine?" She grabbed the bottles and pushed them as far apart as she could. "Permanganates on top of acetone?!"

But even if Dr. Davis had been down right abusive, she would never do something so stupid as to put perchloric acid next to acetic anhydride. If she ever found out who stocked this lab, she was going to kick their butts. Berry grabbed the next two bottles and waved them at Felicity's general direction.

"This is the definition of dangerous."

"If it's so dangerous, maybe you shouldn't be touching them." Felicity's tone was more than a little worried.

She was cute when she got worried. Her nose wrinkled up like a fourth grader. Berry hated being compared to a fourth grader. She made a silent vow to never reveal that comparison to Ms. Smoak as she finished making sure the chemicals would not explode, spew out toxic gas, or turn green. She hopped off the shelving and walked over to the hacker.

"Where'd the police get the blood?"

"Apparently the Vigilante shot him with an arrow."

Which meant the Hood was on the case. Berry shot (shot ha) Felicity a glance. It was all it took to confirm it. Berry could actually meet the Hood on this case. Her heart started pounding like that time she had Nichelle Nichols at Comic Con Seattle and she had complimented Berry on her Communications Officer costume. Strike that, this might be even cooler. Berry pulled on a pair of gloves and looked at the arrow. The tip was bent like a bloody accordion.

"Look at this," she held up the squashed metal, "This is a carbon arrow and it's completely bent. The killer's musculature would have to be almost as dense as concrete to do this."

Felicity made this tiny squeaking noise like air being let out of balloon, "How dense is that?"

"120 pounds per cubic foot." Berry grabbed the tip of the arrow and carefully started to unbend the thing, "You know if he switched to an Aluminum Carbon composite, he'd have far better penetration."

Maybe Felicity could mention it to whatever hacker friend was helping the Hood.

"Maybe he thinks he penetrates just fine." Felicity squeaked.

Obviously not if his arrows were being crushed like this.

"Okay, it'll take two days to get DNA." She warned the other woman. All too often civilians, even intelligence, well-informed civilians, thought CSU could push a button and get results

"Not anymore," Felicity smiled sly as a fox "Applied Sciences has a new DNA sequencer. Samples in less than four hours."

Berry raised an eyebrow. "Guess it pays to work for a billionaire?"

"Actually, my take homes nothing special. Especially given I am rarely at home," Felicity joked, "Since I spend every night with him."

"Oh," Felicity said they weren't dating. Or had it been they weren't sleeping together? How could they be doing one but not the other? Was Oliver Queen taking thing slow? Somehow she doubted that. Oliver Queen was practically a stereotype of the spoiled, oversexed, Type-A trust fund baby.

"What? No, work, night. He and I are not…" She trailed off into an awkward silence. Berry nodded gently, trying to ease some of her embarrassment and then turned back to her bloodied swab. Felicity stared at her for a second,

"I was invited to a party."

That was a non-sequitur. Berry looked at her, confused.

"It's really a work function." She was starting to rush the words "But I have a plus-one."

Berry nodded, not really understanding. Was she asking for advice? It wasn't like she was swimming in guys. Her only hottie of the male persuasion was back in Central City buried in end of semester course work. The hacker's next words came out in a rush she could barely understand

"AndIwasthinkingyou'dmakeareallygoodplusone."

Wait, was Felicity asking her out?

Berry was tempted to ask her to repeat that. But the blonde was blushing like she'd die if she had to repeat herself. Totally not like Berry's blush. Felicity had this adorable little pick dusting, not a full face firestorm. Normally this situation was the reverse. Berry was usually the one to ask a pretty girl out and died of embarrassment when she said no.

Wait, why would she say no?

"There's not gonna be dancing involved?" Berry asked, cautious. She had been proposition by girls as a joke before. "I'm not good on my feet."

"I think I can deal with that." Felicity paused, tone shifting to something hopeful, "If that's a yes?"

At this very moment, Berry felt like she could float off in a dreamy haze. "It is totally a yes."

She felt like her smile could break free. There was the genuine impossible. The Hood was on the same case and they might meet up. And an awesomely hot girl had just asked her out. It was the most perfect moment of her life. Thunder clapped and the two women jumped. And just like that Berry's moment to bask was over. Felicity turned back to the arrow head.

"Anyway we're not looking for DNA. We're looking for a sedative."

"A Sedative." Berry rolled the word around her mouth for a moment, pondering. Nope. Still didn't make sense. "Shouldn't a guy like this be on some kind of upper? Like Super-meth or something?"

"No, Un no we. the police…" She was babbling almost as badly as Berry herself did,

"No." The other woman said with finality.

Berry shrugged and took the swab. If there were sedatives, she'd find them. "Get my kit." She pointed over to the rolling case. Felicity went to grab it as Berry took another look at the arrow head. There was only a thin coating of blood on it. She pointed to it. "Is this all you have?"

"Um yeah,"

The other arrows would be in custody already, so there was no way to get them. Slipping one to Felicity on the DL was a lot different that stealing from the property clerk.

"That's not enough?" Felicity stared at the arrow. To her, it probably looked like a lot of blood.

"Maybe," Even to herself, Berry sounded dubious.

"Don't we just run it through the spectrometer and see what's in the blood?" She pronounced Spec-tron-o-meter.

"No," Berry rolled the swab in her hand, trying to gauge how much was on there, "when a drug is taken, it's metabolized and broken down into different compounds."

She sorted through her drug testing kit and pulled out all the sedative tests. Felicity's eyes grew wider and wider with each one until all eighteen were lined up on the table. "You have to test for those specific compounds."

"Well" Felicity sounded like she was going on faith, "Let's get started."

Berry felt her eyebrows draw together again, "What if we run out of blood?"

"We get more."

Somehow she didn't think Felicity was talking about getting it from property.


	5. Queen's Con Lab II

Hey guys. I'll try to be more regular about updates for the rest of the story.

Reviews are god. Please worship.

* * *

"The STAR labs particle accelerator will be online by the end of the year at the latest. The accelerator will be the smallest ever constructed, a mere five hundred meters in circumference. There are many concerns about building this machine in a large city but STAR labs' CEO Harrison Wells has assured city officials that the accelerator is perfectly safe."

"Pretty cool, right?" Berry called over to Felicity. The tests were all prepped. There had been enough blood, barely but half of them had already tested negative. When the hacker had seen the test was no more complicated than dripping solutions on to swaps, she had turned on the news. She also didn't even look up from her computer. "You know there's been a hundred percent increase in earthquakes since they've turned on the Large Hadron Collider."

Berry frowned at her. This was the most amazing achievement of the century and that was what she chose to say. "That data is misleading."

"You know about misleading, don't you?" Mr. Queen had entered the room. Berry jumped a little. Was the man part cat or something? She glanced at the man and froze when she saw he was talking to her.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice was that slow little whimper that she got when Joe giving her the "I caught you" look.

"You weren't sent from CCPD, your bosses don't know you're in Starling." His words were derceted to Felicity but every word was like a punch in the gut. "And there is no similar case in Central City." His words were clipped, completely calm and utterly devastating.

"So tell me, Ms. Allen," He stopped in front of her and finally met her gaze. His face was smug as the cat that ate the canary, "What are you really doing here?"

Berry would have killed him right there if Felicity wasn't staring at her with a look of utter shock. That more than anything made her want to crawl in a hole and pull it in after her. The other woman had been  
completely honest with her. And now Berry had been outed as a lair. She shot a murderous glance at Oliver and turned back to Felicity. She needed to explain.

"It's about my father's killer."

"You mean your mother."

Felicity was growing more horrified with each passing second. "You said that the police didn't find the man who killed her."

"The police think they did." She returned to Oliver. The billionaire could inspire homicidal rage in a freaking saint. "They didn't believe me."

"About what?" Felicity spoke from the elbow.

Oliver shot back, still in that smug viscous tone, "You were a child."

"I was 11." She corrected, old enough to see. Old enough to remember.

A hand wrapped around her arm, grounding her.

"Berry, about what?" Felicity's voice was quiet, gentle. She didn't deserve her kindness. Berry had basically manipulated her into helping, liking her. She took a shuttering breath,

"The night my father died, something just came into our house." A shaytan, a demon. "It was like a nightmare; All I could see was lightning and red eyes. Burning red eyes." She shuttered at the memory, "It moved so fast, it leave scorch marks on the floor. My dad tried to fight it."

The words came faster, easier. But seeing the disbelief in their faces was like cutting herself open again and again.

"Before I knew it stabbed him." She could barely choke out the words, "I watched him die."

She had stop, breathe. There was no way she was going to cry in front of Oliver Queen. He'd probably laugh in her face. It took a few seconds. Nobody spoke.

"It came after me next when" she snapped, "I was 20 blocks away."

Her shoulders slumped, remembering the painted on smiles and concerned whispers. "They thought I was trying to cover for my mother."

Tears were still clogging throat. She didn't want them. Neither Oliver nor Felicity looked like they had anything to say so she continued glaring at Mr. Queen with all the anger and focus she could manage.

"What I saw that night was real. As real as the man that ripped down that metal door with his bare hands. But the only ones who believe me are people who see the impossible. If I can just prove one is real, just one, they might be able to find out who really killed my father. And free my mom."

It was the only thing that kept her sane, chasing the impossible. A rock she could cling to in a sea of well-meaning whispers and hidden laughter. It had been one lie, just the tiniest lie. It still made her feel like a pig. She turned back to Felicity. "I am so sorry I lied to you. Better find another plus one."

She picked up her case, not bothering to pack. Oliver didn't try to stop her. He moved out of her way like she had the plague. His face was back in that blank slate again. Undoubtedly thinking about what a stupid, silly girl she was. Berry felt very proud of herself that she made it to the elevators before she started crying.


	6. Hotel Chevron

**Hey Guys, and Dolls, and all Variations there in. Another Chapter Down. There won't be any M scenes in this story (Femslash or otherwise) but I am planning on doing a collection of one-shots and companion pieces to this universe. So anything, and I mean anything (Barcity, KillerFlash, FlashVide, Eobarry, Coldflash) goes.**

 **And, yes Oliver is something of an asshole. But he's our asshole and we must give him time to come to his asshole senses and a sharp kick in the balls if that doesn't work.**

 **Remember The God of Fanfiction needs Reviews badly.**

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"I'd ask if you were completely out of your mind, Allen. But I think that's already been established."

Captain Singh's tone was caustic enough to use for drain de-clogger. Then again if she had been pulled away from a romantic evening with her lover to chastise someone who was only barely her responsibility, she'd probably be mad too.

"Yes, sir." Singh wasn't actually listening to her.

"You cannot," he emphasized the words, "I repeat **cannot** use your official ID to worm your way into another Department's case."

"Captain," She had rehearsed this argument right up until her phone rang. The SCPD had welcomed her with open arms. Okay, humoring arms but still.

He cut across her. Singh didn't care if she was going to reveal the secrets to eternal youth. He just wanted to yell at her and go. "How many times is this?"

She started up again "I haven't broken any..."

"Allen" Iron would have boiled in Singh's mouth.

"Three times, sir."

Once with the genetics lab. Once with the Bigfoot. Once with telepath. She had broken two of those cases and the police were mostly grateful for her help. But that didn't change the fact that she had lied. A lot. And to quote Dr. Davis "Risked the reputation of this Lab with your pseudoscience nonsense." He would be on her like bad makeup when she got back. Singh, however, seemed reasonably content with her. His voice lowered to a decibel that would land him a noise citation instead of the Riot Squad.

"Get your ass back to Central City. Now. "

Her next answer was prompt. Easy when there was only one that wouldn't get her fired. "I will be on the next train."

"You better be."

He sounded tired. Was he getting enough sleep?

"Ok. Thank—"

Captain Singh hung up. Berry flopped onto her bed. It was so tempting to throw her phone at the wall. The only thing that pointless bit of destruction would land her was a broken phone. And she really liked her phone, damn it.

There was a knock on the door. Berry grabbed the self-defense kitty Joe had gotten her and slid it onto her knuckles. She had rented a room on the better side of town. All things being relative of course. There were actually hotels here with armed guards on every floor. The peepholes in this hotel were ridiculous. She had to stand on her dopp kit to see through them. There was a blob of tanned skin and sandy hair. A thin scar ran across the joint of cheek and neck, like he'd been sliced with a scalpel or something. The identity of the person hit her like a hammer. She yanked the door with an exasperated sigh.

"I need to get back to Central City tonight if I still want to be employed." She informed Oliver Queen.

Her tone would make damn fine drain cleaner, thank you very much. Oliver looked more comfortable now that he was not in a business suit. There was some of that Own the World Confidence that made women tear their clothes off and men switch teams. That rankled her more than anything. She turned her back to him and tossed her key chain on the bed.

"Which I do." She called over her shoulder. Just in case he didn't understand normal people needed a job. His foot steps followed her into the room. Without her permission, the rude jerk.

"Well, the last train leaves at eleven forty," his tone in contrast to his face confident and casual, "so you'll have plenty of time to get ready."

She spun to face him. He was in for a screeching. Before she could tell him to get out he shoved something into her arms. It was one of those black plastic clothes carrying things. The simple fact was confusing on so many levels. She stared at him.

Oliver shifted from foot to foot. He probably wanted to bolt. His next words were hesitant.

"Felicity still needs a plus-one and she seems to have her heart set on you."

Berry tore into the bag. Inside was a lovely red dress with a lace collar and a pleated skirt. She checked the tag. It was her size exactly. And worth more than her kit.

"What is this?" She demanded, scowling at the man "Did Felicity put you up to this?"

"Felicity doesn't know I'm here." His voice cracked a little on the next words, "And was hoping you could take this as an apology."

Her scowl was lessening on its own accord. Not that it mattered. Even her best ones slid off the man like rain water. "I thought you type-A alpha males didn't apologize."

"We do when were wrong." Something that probably happened more that he was willing to admit.

"About what?" She prompted. It was mean and completely unnecessary but the opportunity to torture the man was too irresistible.

"I'm sorry that I turned you in to your boss despite your excellent police work." He kept glancing down. Was reading this off his palm? He fidgeted like a first grader in front of a teacher. She waited, patient.

"And I'm sorry I accused you of lying about your father's murder."

It was so tempting to let Oliver Queen grovel a bit more. The poor guy looked like he'd start breaking out in hives if she pressed.

Did he look that apology up on his phone? I am sorry for doing blank with a blank and a blankety blank. Berry snorted through her nose.

"I don't know if you know this," she sounded less angry than she wanted to, "but the police do occasionally get it wrong."

"Not you." He looked relieved she wasn't going to make him grovel. What kind of people did he grow up with? "A ninety-eight percent conviction rate since joining the CCPD."

"That was only four years ago." Berry said trying to be casual. Pride was bubbling through her stomach and into her voice. She had worked hard for her record.

"But still it's impressive." And he sounded impressed. It was the first time she had seen him anything. Except angry. He was always angry.

Berry shrugged. It wasn't hard when the only precincts you serviced were a gated community whose biggest problems were drunken teenagers, place that was 95 percent elementary school, and major cases. Mr. Queen was looking awkward again. There was something about him that said he wasn't good at real human interaction. Sure, he could get panties off a nun and money from a stone but even something as simple as apology was making him sweat bullets.

It had never occurred to her that someone like Oliver Queen could have social anxiety. Allah, what was going on with that man?

"I accept." She stated with an air of finality.

"What?" Oliver's face was blank again but it was a confused blank rather than that I-Am-An-Alpha-Male-Robot face.

"Your apology." She enunciated the words, like he was learning them for the first time, "I accept your apology."

She smiled at the end, trying to show him there were no hard feelings. Oliver looked relived. He sat on the bed like a lump on a stump while she examined the dress. It was one of those classy styles that made her think of pin curls and Scarlet lipstick. Oliver had neglected to bring shoes with him. Probably a good thing. Oliver Queen would be the type to get DO ME HEELs that would break her ankles by sheer height.

"Can I ask you a question?" Oliver's voice made her jump a little. He was still sitting on her bed.

"As long as I can keep the dress." She responded. He nodded like he didn't care.

"Your career…" He hesitated, unable to connect that to "Your father was murdered in front of you".

"It was some of it." She admitted before he could get to the uncomfortable part. "More of it was when I worked as a victim advocate when I was in school."

"Victim Advocate." He queried. Not really queried, more asked in a weird tone that required a weird word.

"When a person is the victim of a crime," She explained "they can go to a non-profit whose job is to get them the help they need: Therapy, relocation, job training, even harassing the police into a better job."

"Why would anyone do that?" His face scrunched in an odd way. His problems must usually revolve around harassing the police to do a worse job.

"Harass the police for someone?" She asked for confirmation. He nodded.

"Lots of reasons," She started tick off her fingers "If they don't have the time or money to do it themselves or they can't handle it emotionally. Or if they want justice done on behalf of someone else."

Oliver considered that of a moment. Berry let him have a moment and continued with her speech. She had been asked this question often enough that she had the gist of it down cold.

"I saw a lot of lousy police work there." She remembered it too. So much prejudice, ignorance, and apathy. "Detectives who didn't want to deal with their cases or else tried to pin it on someone they only thought were guilty."

"We get a lot of that in Starling City too." Oliver's voice had an odd mix of sadness and anger in it. It disappeared in his next sentence. It wasn't a question but his tone still said he was confused. "So you became a CSI instead of a cop."

"A lot of police work is educated guesses." That was also the part she was terrible at. "When I find something, it's a fact. Saying the DNA matches won't change if I know the suspect is a really nice guy." She pulled out her back up shoes, her extra lucky red high-tops. "The police owe it to everyone to make sure the right guy goes away for the right crime. It's the only way people can really start to heal."

Oliver was nodding, not like understood, more like he wanted her to know he was still listening. There was a trace of something she couldn't identify in his face. It made her feel like she was poking an open wound.

She cleared her throat a little. "So where and when is this party?"

"My house, nine o'clock." It came out a little strangled.

It was seven thirty now. Plenty of time to get ready. She might even be on time. Oliver seemed to understand she was going to start on the mysterious dance of female preparation and got up to leave. He was at the door when something she forgot wiggled its way into her forebrain.

"Can I ask you something?"

His hand tightened on the doorknob. She could see the tension in his back and neck. For a second she though he was going to cut his losses and make a run for it.

"Yes?" his voice was quiet, like he was waiting for her to shoot him in the back.

"Why did you apologize?"

Oliver paused for a moment. He turned to face her again, moving like every step was killing him. For the first time, he didn't look like he was waiting for ninjas to pop out of the ceiling. His shoulders were slumped. He looked like a thousand year old child, both too old and too young for the world. It was a long time before he spoke six tiny words that seemed to cost him everything he had.

"I saw my father die too."

Berry stood there and pretended not to notice the tears in his eyes.


	7. Queen Mansion

I said it once I said it ten million times. Finals! Suck! Brains!

Enjoy the Story.

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The Queen mansion alone could have filled a Central City block. Which Berry was fairly certain was larger than Starling City Block. She had yet to do a comprehensive survey on the relative size of city blocks but walking felt faster here. Maybe it was just epinephrine. Anyway, the enormous house stood like a castle fit for a queen. Facing this alone made Berry quake in her lucky shoes. This would be so much simpler if she were lost in a crowd.

She checked her watch. It read nine-twenty eight. By her standards she was practically on time. From the looks of things, she was not yet fashionably late. There were no cars parked in the driveway. A single limo sat outside the gates; its driver smoking a hand-rolled cigarette. It would probably be another hour before it really got swinging. She was just glad she hadn't brought any high heels. The walk up the drive was definitely longer than a Central City block.

Seeing the mansion from a distance was impressive. Up close it was simply over the top. Like the door. It was at least eight feet wide and solid enough that she had to heave it open. And it was made entirely of rosewood. Actual endangered rosewood. How obnoxious was that? The foyer was lined with real Persian carpets and paintings that cost more than her whole apartment building. The chandler was real leaded glass crystal. It was enough to make her head spin. Her father's estate had left her well-off but this was a whole another galaxy. This much money just lying around felt obscene.

She hurried through the hallway before she could do something stupid like breath on a priceless antique. There was classical music coming from up ahead. Something soft and floaty that she was ninety percent sure the Piano Guys covered. Berry walked into a room with high sweeping ceilings and wide dark floors. She scanned the few people here. Felicity's honey blonde hair stood out like a beacon.

Felicity had her hair in one of those big bumps that cascaded down her back. Her dress was a flirty little purple number. It was a good look on her. But she had ditched the glasses. Berry liked the other woman's glasses. They made her gorgeous eyes bigger. Oliver was leaning over her, talking in a low tense voice. He was dressed in one of those ruffed tuxs that were supposed to be fancy but always seemed silly to her. She caught the last few words of their conversation.

"FYI they will card her at the bar."

Berry smiled as Felicity spun around. Felicity returned her shy smile with one of her dazzling ones. Oliver left with a look at Berry that said their moment at the hotel never happened. She was fine with that. Mr. Queen was a little unbalanced and a lot in denial about it. She turned her attention back to the other woman. Felicity was glowing.

"I was serious about not being able to dance." She offered her hands anyway, "But I could hold your hands and sway."

Felicity laughed, "Sold"

Berry was maybe three inches shorter than Felicity so trying to figure out who was the leader was a little awkward. There was a knocking of elbows and knees and Berry did step on Felicity's toes. Twice. Eventually they settled together, Berry's arms wrapped around Felicity's waist. After that it was like a dream. The music changed, still soft but a little faster. Soft light cast a golden glow around the room. It felt so romantic. It had been years since Berry had held someone this close, felt soft skin under her fingers.

"You do this all the time?" She nodded to the people around them.

"No," Felicity shook her head "I don't party. Parties. No. I."

Berry nodded until the song ended. The two women parted with a minimum of toe-related mishaps.

"What to do that again?" she asked breathlessly. Berry could hold the other woman all night.

Felicity shook her head, "I really need a drink."

Berry frowned and followed the other woman. Maybe those toe-related mishaps were worse than she thought. The bar was predictably full-stocked and free. There was some kind of fancy name for a free bar at a party but Berry didn't care. Felicity sidled up and ordered without hesitation.

"I'll take a tequila sunrise."

The bartender nodded and looked to Berry.

"Champagne." To her horror, she said it like Zap Brannigan.

The bartender was polite enough not to notice or at least didn't get the reference. As promised they carded her before pouring out her drink. Part of her hoped they wouldn't let her. Berry couldn't hold her liqueur well. The last time had been one of the most humiliating nights of her life. But this was a big fancy black tie party and at such parties you had delicate crystal flutes of champagne. Felicity accepted her order and took a hearty pull. Berry took a much more reserved sip of her drink. It tasted light and frothy with just a hint of strawberry.

The silence felt awkward and tense. Felicity glared at the other side of the room and took long angry pulls on her drink.

"Did you ever find out what was in the killer's blood?"

Felicity hummed for a minute not listening, "Oh, it was ketamine."

Ketamine? That was horse tranquilizer. Why would the killer use something intended for farm animals when there were hospitals in the Glades with much safer anesthetics and virtually no security? Why did it matter when she was off the case?

A hand gripped her arm. "You okay, Berry?"

Felicity had stopped glaring at Oliver. Her face was etched with concern.

"Yeah," Berry set her glass down and rubbed cold fingers over her temples, "Just this day has been kind of…:

"Awful," Felicity prompted as she polished off her drink. "Terrible, humiliating on an inconceivable level."

"I was gonna go with bad but it's your city." Berry flipped the other woman's glass so the bartender wouldn't refill it.

"I'm sorry," Felicity closed her eyes, embarrassed, "Dig told me the reason Oliver pounced on you in the lab was because he knew I was going to ask you out."

So that was it. There was some kind of sexual tension thing going on.

"It wasn't like he wasn't right." She offered. It sounded lame.

"Yes." Felicity breathed the word like it had personally offended her. She flipped the glass over and signaled for another round.

Berry found Oliver across the room. He was talking to a woman. She was one of those sharp beauties that made you afraid to talk to for fear she'd cut you to ribbons. It wasn't a friendly conversation if the woman's haughty and disdained expression was anything to go by. Then again, maybe this woman just had a resting murder face.

Berry toyed with the edge of her flute. "You think Oliver needs a therapist?"

"I think this whole family needs a therapist." She grumbled, "I need a therapist."

Berry coughed and sipped more of her champagne.

"You know what?" Felicity waved her hand at someone across the room. "Why don't I introduce you to Thea? I think she'd like you."

"I'd like to meet Thea," Berry admitted "See if she's just as well-adjusted as Oliver."

"Only when it comes to family."

Berry spun to meet the other Queen Child. She was closer in age to Thea than she was to Oliver. And she was a girl, too. Maybe the two women could connect in a way she couldn't manage to with Oliver. Berry took one look the young woman standing behind her and felt like someone had hit her with a hammer. She took a drink to cover her yelp and promptly choked on it.

The girl standing before her couldn't be Thea Queen. She was dressed richly enough, all dark velvet and a necklace with at least eight diamonds the size of her thumb. She stood at complete ease with the crowd. Felicity greeted her as Thea. But she just couldn't be. Berry tried to recall every image of Robert Queen and could find nothing of him in the girl before him. Narrow where her parents and brother were wide. Dark hair and eyes whereas everyone else was fair. When she smiled, she had dimples. Robert Queen didn't have dimples. There was no way a Queen should look like this girl; no way could this girl who had hugged Oliver and chatted with his mother be Thea Queen.

Unless this was Thea and she just wasn't a Queen.

Felicity thumped her on the back. "Are you okay?"

Berry nodded, not able to talk. Good thing or she'd have gotten herself in real trouble

Don't do anything stupid like that time you outed your history professor as an auto-erotic asphyxiator in front of the dean of students.

Somehow she didn't think Oliver would tolerate her anymore if she announced that his little sister was a bastard.

"Is something wrong?" The Queen Matriarch came to her daughter's side. Here she could see the similarities, in the shape of the cheek and the sweep of their brows.

"Nothing." Berry smiled, hoping the three women wouldn't see how forced it was "Nothing at all."


	8. Train Station

**Hey Guys, Dolls, and other Inanimate Objects. I know it's been forever since my last update. But don't worry, I will never leave a fic hanging. It is a pain I have known all too well.**

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Berry stared out the widow of Felicity's little smart car. The hacker had insisted on driving Berry to her hotel. She claimed that Berry would be dead if she walked as she planned. From the looks of things, she had been right. There were too many dark alleys, boarded windows. Everything was dark. There were no streetlights, or houselights or even starlight. Which was ironic.

"I didn't peg you as the broody type."

Berry started. Felicity smirked sideways at Berry, a playful fire dancing in her eyes.

"I'm not broody." She pouted, "I'm self-reflective."

Felicity snorted, "Well, Miss Self-Reflective, What did you think of Starling?"

"It's not what I expected."

Joe had told her Starling was bad. She had expected the crime. What she hadn't expected was the drama. The whole city was like a bad Soap Opera, complete with office romance, secret affairs, kidnappings. If Oliver Queens' long lost evil twin showed up with his secret love child, she honestly won't be surprised. Felicity snorted.

"It can be intense."

That was an understatement if Berry ever heard one. "How do you survive living here?"

Central City has crime: drug dealers, mobsters, even a terrorist or two. That was nothing on Starling. Everything in this city was dark or angsty or scary. She had yet to walk into a single building that wasn't marked by bullets or blood. Felicity turned the wheel with a wholly amount of unnecessary focus, her knuckles white.

"It's hard." There was a quick cracking in her voice.

"You ever want to leave?"

"Sometimes."

Berry heard the word and all the words in between. It awed her that anyone could live so close to so much pain and Felicity had done it all with a smile.

"Then why do you stay?"

Felicity stared out the windshield with a distant sad expression.

 _Because someone you love is here._

Berry had seen the looks, the quiet conversations, the lingering touches; despite what Ian said she wasn't completely oblivious. Felicity pull the car to a stop.

"Here's your hotel."

Berry nodded. "See you Felicity."

The other woman grabbed her hand. She could see the words teetering on Felicity's lips.

"Bye Berry."

Berry nodded, their hands slipping away from each other. Felicity drove off. She watched as the little car pulled away from the curb. It was time to leave. There was nothing left in this city for her.

In a rare fit of productivity, Berry had packed everything before left. Her clothes were laid out on the bed. There was plenty of time to wash up, change and she'd be out of here early.

* * *

Berry wondered into the empty train station two hours later. Check out had been a nightmare. How was she supposed to know that website hadn't been updated in a year? Despite that she didn't feel bad. Her Case and Felicity had been worth all the considerable hassle.

She scanned the departure board for her train. It took her a minute to realize it was off. There was only one employee left. She ran up to him as he was pulling on his slicker.

"When's the next train to Central City?"

His answer was terse but not unkind. "Just left."

"So, when's the next one?"

"Six am."

Of course. The conductor excused himself, leaving Berry alone in the station. Just like that the good vibes of the evening had soured like old milk. She sat heavily on the bench. It was one of those old plastic models with the raised dividers. It was supposed to ergonomic. Berry personally thought it was to prevent homeless people from sleeping on it.

 _Like I will be doing. **Again.**_

Sometimes her inner voice was a jerk. It was going to be a long uncomfortable night. Not for the first time, Berry curse whatever force of the universe that made her perpetually late. At this rate she was going to get robbed again. There was no place for her to stay. She had already checked out of her hotel and there was no way she could go back after that scene. Maybe she could call Felicity. Did she have Felicity's number on her phone? She reached for her bag. There was a whooshing sound and a solid prick on the back of her neck before the world went black.


	9. Unknown

**Hey guys, This is the end of the beginning. The final chapter of the first story of Earth-63. Enjoy.**

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Berry returned to the waking world in a full-body riot. Her mouth tasted like old soap and death and her head felt like a xenomorph baby was trying to burst out of it. Florescent lights all but stabbed her in the eyes. She snapped them shut. She was having a very bad reaction to whatever was in her. Strangely that annoyed her more than the fact she been drugged in the first place.

She needed to look around. Berry groaned and opened her eyes again. The wall she could see was concrete with patches on the walls and ceiling. There were rusted metal stairs and harsh florescent lights. Industrial tools lay haphazardly around the floor. She was underground, in a business basement probably in the Glades.

It took forever to leverage herself to her feet. Her scene of balance felt off and her muscles moved like mismatched gears. She took one look at the room proper and nearly fainted. Weapons were on every free surface, bows, knives, and guns. A nest of computers with pictures and documents on the screens. There was a bare mannequin in a glass box, and lines of freaking arrow sat, heads facing out.

 _That's a major safety hazard._

It was a hysterical thought but it kept her from looking back at the center of the room. Because in the center of the room was a table and lying out like a corpse waiting for autopsy was Oliver Queen, dressed in bloody green leather. Oliver Queen was the Hood.

 _I'm such a freaking idiot._

Oliver's paranoia, getting his hands on the evidence, the fact he surrounded himself with such amazing people. This explained everything. Except how she had been knocked out and dragged into a room by a dying Vigilante Billionaire.

"Please save my friend."

She started and spun to see Felicity and Mr. Diggle standing beside her. Their faces were drawn and close to panic. Berry glanced back at vigilante. At least a pint and a half of blood was on his clothes, no telling how much of it was his own. The medical monitors were arrhythmic chaos. At this point death was not a possibility but a certainty. They needed a miracle.


End file.
